


Cat

by SummerStormFlower



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adults, Alcoholism, Amnesia, Annoying Big Brothers, Annoying Little Sisters, Anxiety, Belief, Best Friends, Blood and Injury, Cats, Christian Character, Christianity, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Friendship, Gay Character, Gen, Getting Back Together, God - Freeform, Goodbyes, Growing Up, Having Faith, Homelessness, Hospitals, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Kids, Love, Memory Loss, Middle School, Near Death Experiences, Opposites Attract, Other, Prayer, Religion, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, Smoking, Stabbing, Strangers, Teenagers, Time Skips, Toddlers, Travel, Winter, becoming a Christian, faith - Freeform, love and acceptance, loyal pets, mention of drugs, single mom, talks about God
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 10:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerStormFlower/pseuds/SummerStormFlower
Summary: Hope is a homeless girl on the streets. She meets a boy named Marty, and her life changes.
Comments: 38
Kudos: 4





	1. The Boy

**Author's Note:**

> So the summary kind of sucks, but so much more than that happens in this story. I promise, it's more interesting than the summary or the tags suggest. I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you!

Hope kneeled down to the black cat in the park. She held out her hand and waited for him to come to her. He sniffed the cold air, whiskers twitching. Then he trotted over to her and nuzzled his head in her palm. She stroked his right ear gently, minding the hole that was in it. He took to her quickly and leapt into her arms, purring happily.  
Hope smiled, smoothing her hands over the cat’s fur, rubbing his bald patches.  
There was no collar around his throat.  
He was like her. No home, no family. Nothing but his furry coat.  
Well, Hope had a little more than that. She had her long, messy scarlet hair, her undershirt, her leather jacket, and her black skirt, and her left sock. She had those things to be thankful for.  
Suddenly, a shadow appeared over Hope. She looked up, squinting at the light of the white sky. A boy with curly blond hair stood above her, dressed in ski-pants and an ivory coat. He was smiling, green gaze soft. He was holding out a brown bag for Hope to take.  
Hope stared at him curiously, but he didn’t say anything; just continued to smile and hold out the bag.  
The cat meowed against her chest, nose twitching. He smelled something good.  
Hope reached for the bag and her fingers brushed the boy’s warm hand. She didn’t move. The boy let go.  
Then he waved goodbye and ran off.  
Hope blinked, not quite believing what had just happened.  
She opened the bag and looked inside. There was a sandwich, a juice box, a container of strawberries, and a cookie.  
The cat purred happily, his stomach gurgling. Like Hope, he probably hadn’t eaten in days.  
Hope looked in the direction the boy went, watching his back shrink as he got farther down the street.  
“Thank you.”  
She watched until the boy disappeared from sight.

Ray meowed loudly, pawing the bag.  
“Hey, calm down. I will share,” Hope told him, lifting the bag out of his reach.  
Ray sat down, watching her with excited brown eyes.  
Hope put the bag back down, taking out the sandwich and pulling a piece off of it. She held it out to Ray. Ray licked it out of her hand.  
Hope bit into the other side of the sandwich. It felt insanely good to get food in her system again.  
She and Ray finished the contents in the bag and fell asleep, feeling satisfied.

Later, Hope awoke to the sound of a voice. She stirred slowly.  
“Hey.”  
Hope flinched, clutching Ray tightly. He meowed and yawned. Hope looked and saw a familiar figure standing under the bridge.  
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” said the blond boy from yesterday.  
Hope relaxed. Ray nuzzled her cheek.  
She stared curiously at the boy.  
Then he grinned and held out his arm. He had another brown bag.  
Hope blinked, surprised.  
The boy walked over to where she sat against the wall, knees drawn up. He bent down, holding the bag out for her to take.  
Hope made to take it, but still waited for the boy to pull his hand away. Their fingers brushed again.  
He let go.  
Hope looked inside the bag. There was another sandwich and juice box. What was different were the blueberries and granola bar. She rolled the folds shut and carefully fit it in her right pocket.  
She returned her gaze to the smiling boy. “Thank you.”  
The boy’s expression lit up. “So you can talk!”  
Hope nodded and cleared her throat, getting rid of the scratch in her voice.  
The boy sat beside her, drawing his knees up too. “My name’s Marty. What’s yours?”  
Ray leaned towards him, sniffing him. Marty held out his hand and Ray snuggled his face in his palm.  
“Hope.”  
“Hope, huh? Pretty name. Oh, do you still have that other bag I gave you?”  
Hope nodded and zipped open her left pocket, pulling out the bag from yesterday. She gave it to Marty.  
“Thanks. My mom said I have to bring her back the container,” he explained.  
Hope nodded.  
“By the way, you’re not allergic to peanut butter, are you?” he asked.  
“No,” Hope shook her head, “I really like peanut butter.”  
“Well that’s a relief,” Marty smiled.  
Hope nodded again.  
Marty stayed and talked. He told her that he liked orange. He told her how he was good at math. He told her his favourite food was pizza. He told her about his mom, his little sister, his annoying big brother, and their fluffy, white cat. Hope just listened. There was something soothing about just listening to someone else talk.  
Marty talked to her the whole day, until he saw the sun setting.  
He shouted in surprise, then laughed. “I should get going,” he said, standing up and stretching. He grinned. “See you tomorrow!”  
Hope blinked. Had she heard him right?  
Marty waved and ran off.  
Hope found herself smiling.

The next day, Marty brought Hope another brown bag and a pair of socks. They spent the whole day talking again.  
The day after, Marty brought a bag of food and a pair of shoes. They walked around the city, Ray trudging behind them.  
Wednesday, he brought a bag of food and purple mittens. They played on the ice, skidding and slipping, and trying not to fall by hanging onto each other.  
Thursday, he brought a bag of food and a black toque. They went to the library—snuck Ray in without getting caught—and Marty read Hope a book.  
The following day, Marty brought a bag of food and a lilac scarf.

Warmth enveloped Hope’s neck, as Marty wrapped the scarf around her.  
“There,” he said with a smile, “Feel nice?”  
Hope nodded and smiled too. She had been doing a lot of that lately.  
“Good,” Marty said. Then he grabbed her hand. “Come! I want to show you something.”  
He pulled her to her feet and they started running, Ray meowing and chasing after them.  
“What is it?” Hope asked.  
Marty grinned back at her. “You’ll see.”  
They passed the frozen pond and the library. They ran and ran, passing billboards, buildings, and streetlights. They crossed the street once, flying by strangers. The more they ran, the more curious Hope became.  
Then Marty began to slow, indicating to Hope they were nearing their destination. They stopped on the ledge hovering over the river.  
Marty pointed to the horizon on the other side. “Watch this.”  
The sun was rising in between two buildings. It moved slowly, growing brighter and brighter. The ice atop the river shimmered beneath it. Then when it rose above the two buildings, the entire expanse of ice lit up, the surface glittering like blue-white crystals.  
Hope’s eyes widened at the sight. She had never seen anything so beautiful.  
“I always come here to watch this,” Marty told her, “I thought you might like it too, so I wanted to share it with you.”  
“I...” Hope breathed, “I have no words to describe this.” She felt as though she could gaze at the frozen river forever.  
Then she felt her hand being lifted, larger fingers twined around her own.  
“We haven’t let go since we got here,” Marty chuckled.  
Hope looked at him, then looked at their hands. Her face was suddenly hot, a blush as red as her hair upon her cheeks.  
“Let’s hold on for a little longer,” Marty said seriously.  
Hope nodded and buried her nose in her scarf.  
They watched the ice sparkle.

They later went to the park where they sat on the bench together, Ray sprawled out on both of their legs.  
“Hey,” Hope spoke quietly.  
“Hmm?” Marty hummed.  
“Why are you being so nice to me?”  
Marty faced her, gaze gleaming with sincerity. “I don’t need a reason to be nice to someone.”  
Hope blinked, cheeks growing warm for the second time.  
Ray meowed against her, wanting attention. She caressed his ears, much to his delight. “No one’s ever been nice to me before.”  
Marty gave her hand a squeeze and Hope stole a glance at him. “Then it’s about time someone started.”  
At that moment, the bell of the clock tower rang.  
“It’s midnight!” Marty shouted in alarm, “My mom’s going to kill me!” He stood up, letting go of Hope’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I’d walk you home, but my curfew ended two hours ago and I really have to go.”  
Hope nodded her understanding, though she was disappointed by the loss of his hand.  
“See you tomorrow!” Marty smiled and waved, then quickly ran off.  
“See you tomorrow,” Hope said quietly, waving at his back.  
She stayed sitting on the bench for awhile, cuddling with Ray, and thinking about Marty.  
It was hard to believe a week had passed since they met. Thinking back on it, Hope could hardly believe it hadn’t been a dream. She wondered for a moment if she was dreaming. She pinched herself. She was happy when she didn’t wake up.

Eventually, she headed home with Ray beside her.  
But along the way, there were these four guys. She didn’t see the fist barrelling at her in time.  
That’d never happened before. Why wasn’t her guard up?

Ray meowed, sniffing the bruise on her face.  
“It’s okay,” Hope croaked painfully, “I’m okay. Just a little sore.”  
Ray gave her nose a kiss. Hope smiled small and stroked her bleeding fingers through Ray’s fur.  
Suddenly, Ray turned and ran away, leaving Hope wondering where he was going. She sighed. She could see her breath. She shivered, curling in on herself, clutching her scarf tightly. The wind hit her back, her skin stinging under her jacket.  
Her eyes stung too and she squeezed them shut. She hadn’t cried in a long time; she wasn’t about to start now.  
“Hope?!”  
Her eyes shot open.  
Ray sprinted over to her, followed by Marty. He kneeled down and gathered her in his arms.  
“I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve never left you. I’m sorry.” He ran his hand through her hair, hugging her to his chest.  
Hope buried her face in his coat and sobbed, relief washing over her. She was safe.  
“I’ve got you. You’re okay now. I’m sorry,” Marty whispered. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and scooped up her legs with the other.  
“What are you doing?” Hope asked, rubbing her face.  
“I’m taking you to my house.”


	2. Soup

“What was I supposed to do?! Leave her?!” Marty hissed at his older brother.  
His mother and brother had noticed he’d snuck out and were waiting for him at the kitchen table. They were surprised when he came home with Hope.  
Hope had fallen asleep along the way, so Marty laid her down on the couch and covered her with a blanket.   
Kurt, with wide eyes, started stammering something about him being too young—which had Marty quickly launching into an explanation, face redder than a tomato. Of course, Kurt tried to be an adult and got mad at him. He got mad at him about everything.  
“That’s not what I said!” Kurt growled back, “Yes, you did make the right decision in bringing her here. But you didn’t think ahead! What are we going to do now? Is Mom going to adopt her?”  
“Excuse me for helping out a fellow human being!” Marty whisper-yelled, struggling to remember that Hope was in the room right beside them.  
“That’s not what I—” Kurt stopped and groaned.  
Marty sighed. “We can figure something out later.”  
“When?” Kurt demanded, “When Mom’s working two or three jobs to feed all of us?”  
“Maybe you should move out. One less mouth to feed!”  
“Enough!” their mother exclaimed.  
The boys shut up immediately.  
Emily stood up and went into the living room. She stepped over the coffee table, careful to avoid the sleeping black cat curled up on it. She bent down and picked up Hope’s scarf, pressing it in Hope’s hand. She gazed down at the girl for a moment, stroking her long hair scattered over the cushion.  
Then she turned off the lamp.  
“Go to bed soon,” Emily told her sons, walking back into the kitchen and going down the hallway.  
Silence fell over the boys, neither one moving. Their mother had that affect on them. One stern glance and very few words, and they were left trying to figure out how she did it.  
Marty wondered what she intended to do with Hope. But the way she had looked at her gave Marty the sense that everything would be alright.  
“Hey,” Kurt whispered, a hint of hesitation in his tone.  
Marty looked at him, already knowing what he was going to say.  
“Did you mean that?”  
Marty looked him square in the eye. “No.” As annoying as Kurt could be, he didn’t want him to move out.  
Kurt gave him a crocked smile. “Goodnight,” he waved before heading down the hallway.  
Marty sat down on the coffee table beside Ray and gazed at Hope. When he first saw her, he’d only wanted to make her life a little more bearable. Then he’d met her and became friends with her. The next thing he knew, he thought her smile was the most beautiful thing in the world.   
Her smile felt so far away now. There were tear tracks and bruises on her face, and Marty hated them more than anything he’d ever hated.   
The clock struck one in the morning. Marty’s eyes drooped and he yawned. He’d been sleeping deeply before he heard Ray clawing on his window.  
He pet the cat for a bit. Ray purred in his sleep.  
Then Marty got up and headed to his bedroom, casting one last glance at Hope.

The sun shone through the kitchen window, stirring Hope awake, but she didn’t open her eyes. Her head was pounding. She waited for the pain to dull before she moved. When she opened eyes, there was a little girl sitting on the coffee table, watching cartoons.  
The little girl turned around, their eyes meeting. Then she turned towards the kitchen. “Mommy, she’s awake!”  
Hope looked around. “Where am I?”  
“You’re in my house,” said the little girl, “Marty brought you here last night, remember?”  
Oh yeah. It was fuzzy, but Hope remembered it.  
Suddenly, Ray popped up out of nowhere and jumped onto her lap. He purred when Hope pet him.  
“Is that your cat?” the little girl asked.  
Hope nodded.  
“Is it a boy or a girl? And what’s its name?”  
“Ray. He’s a boy.”  
“I thought so. He looks like a boy.”  
A woman then appeared through the square in the living room wall. “Lillian, did you wake her?”  
“No. She woke up all by herself.”  
Hope gazed curiously at the woman. When she came closer, Hope saw a pair of familiar green eyes. “How do you feel, hun?”  
It took Hope a second to realize the woman was talking to her. “Um, fine.”  
“Do you feel any pain?”  
“No.”  
“Good.” Emily shuffled her way around the coffee table and bent over Hope. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”   
She unzipped Hope’s jacket and gently pulled it off her shoulders. Shuffling her way to the closet by the door, she hung it up. She went back to Hope, lifting her up easily and setting her on the other side of the coffee table.  
“Bye bye, Hope!” Lillian said, waving enthusiastically.  
Hope waved back.  
Emily guided her to the bathroom with a hand on her shoulder above a green-blue bruise.  
The bathroom was small like the rest of the house, except the wallpaper was covered with yellow duckies. As Emily turned on the tub tap, Ray mewled and jumped out of Hope’s arms, running out of the room like a dog was chasing him.  
“Our cat hates water too,” Emily said.  
Hope looked at her reflection, gingerly touching the cuts on her face. There was a long one on her cheek. There was a small one on her bottom lip. A tiny one above her eye. A crooked one beside her other eye. Green markings spotted her neck. One arm was mostly unscathed, except for a purple-black bruise circling her wrist. The other was covered in green and yellow.  
Hope was used to seeing bruises on herself. She had been in fights before. If she squinted, she could find some old scars; like the one on her forearm. She remembered getting that one from another homeless girl. She had beat her, but it hadn’t been easy. The girl had no muscle on her, but she was a wild animal. Her teeth were like knives.  
Emily then turned off the tap, the tub now full, and stood up to shut the door. She helped Hope pull her shirt off. Then she helped her into the bath. Hope bit back a hiss at the sting of the water.  
Emily gently placed one hand on Hope’s shoulder and one on the back of her head. As she helped her lay down, keeping her face above the water, Hope felt gratitude fill her heart.  
This woman was kind. Like Marty.  
She helped Hope wash her hair. Then she helped her dry off. She brushed her hair. She rubbed ointment on her skin. She gave her a pair of clean clothes. She said they belonged to Marty, but that he wouldn’t mind lending them to her. The shirt kept falling off her shoulder, but Hope had no complaints.  
“Thank you,” she said quietly.  
Emily gave her a soft look. “You’re welcome.”  
The smile on Hope’s face suddenly turned into a frown, as she realized something. “Where is Marty?”  
“At school,” Emily told her, “He’ll be back in an hour.”  
“Okay,” Hope said, though she wasn’t sure how long an hour was.  
They exited the bathroom, Emily carrying Hope’s clothes. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll throw your things in the wash.” She turned to enter a different room.  
“Thank you,” Hope said again.  
Emily looked back at her, gaze full of sincerity. “It’s not a problem.” Her lips curled in a small smile. Then she went into the room.  
Hope’s chest felt warm. She was happy. She’d been happy ever since she met Marty.  
Suddenly, there was a meow. Hope looked at her feet, expecting to find Ray, but was surprised when there was a fluffy, white cat instead.  
“That’s Jingle.”  
Lillian was now by her side, her head at Hope’s waist. Jingle nuzzled Hope’s leg.  
“She likes you!” Lillian said excitedly.  
“Does she?”  
“Yeah!”  
Hope knelt down to Jingle and pet her. She purred. Hope smiled.  
Then Lillian tugged on her sleeve. “Come play dollies with me!”  
“Okay.” Hope stood up and let Lillian take her hand.

“That dolly’s name is Monkey.”  
Hope laughed at Lilly’s choice of names. Lilly gave her the doll.  
Then for a second—instead of Lilly’s tiny hands—Hope saw a pair of old, wrinkled ones holding a doll than looked almost exactly like Monkey, except for a knitted button eye.  
The image disappeared in a flash.  
Hope’s breath caught in her throat. A memory. When was the last time she’d had a memory?  
Lilly gave her another doll. “Now this dolly—” she cut herself off with a gasp, grinning at the sound of the house door opening. “Kurt and Marty are back! Come on, Hope!”  
“Oh, uh, okay.” Hope took a second to clear her head. Then she stood up, shaking her foot awake, and followed after Lilly.  
While Hope trudged into the kitchen, Lilly was climbing over the coffee table to get to the door.  
“Welcome back, boys,” said Emily. She was cooking supper, looking over her shoulder through the square in the wall.  
“Hey, Mom,” said Kurt, taking off his coat. Lilly hugged his leg.  
“Mom!” Marty pushed past his siblings. His brother almost tripped over their sister. “Is Hope—” he stopped when he saw Hope. Tossing his jacket at the couch, Marty jumped over the coffee table and ran up to her. He threw his arms around her, making her stumble back in surprise.  
Kurt whistled. Lillian tried to imitate him, but she just spit instead.  
“Love is in the air!”  
“Shut up!”  
“Love! Love! Love!”  
“Lilly!”  
Marty glared at both his siblings. Then he turned back to Hope. “Are you feeling alright?”  
Hope’s face felt warm. She smiled shyly. “Yes.”  
Marty sighed in relief. Then his cheeks turned pink and he smiled shyly too. He was cute.  
Kurt whistled and Lillian spit again. Marty turned bright red.  
“Wedding bells!”  
“I said shut up!”  
“Wedding bells! Wedding—”  
“Lilly!”  
Kurt and Lilly laughed. Hope giggled too. Marty turned even redder. He was too cute.  
“That’s enough out of you four,” Emily then said, setting the table. “Kurt, Marty, go wash up.”  
The boys did as their mother told them, arguing about who got to go first.  
Lilly pulled Hope towards the table and sat down in the chair to her left. Emily joined them, settling into the seat across from Lilly. When the boys came back, Kurt sat beside their mom and Marty sat at the end by Hope.  
“The soup smells good, Mom.”  
“Thank you, Marty.”  
“Will it heal my brain? I had a horrible pop quiz today.”  
“Kurt’s brain is broken! Kurt’s brain is—”   
“Inside voice, Lilly. Kurt, get your head off the table.”  
Hope watched, amused, as everyone took turns scooping noodle soup into their bowls. Emily scooped for Lilly and Hope first, then for herself. Marty served himself, chuckling at his recitation of the kid who squirted milk out of his nose in the cafeteria. And Kurt went last, telling Lilly to sit still.  
Then the family quieted, joined hands, and shut their eyes. Hope observed curiously. What were they doing?  
“Let us pray,” said Emily.  
Pray? That sounded kind of familiar.  
Emily continued, “Father, we want to thank you for this glorious day, as well as the food that we are about to partake in. We ask that you bless us, and guide us, and give us strength. We ask that you forgive us of any wrong we have done, and hope that we may find favour in your eyes.”  
“I personally ask you, God, to aid me in my studies and help me decide which college to go to,” said Kurt, “I also ask you to make Lilly shut up for a week.”  
“Kurt!”  
“Sorry, I had to.”  
“I ask that you keep Mom and Lilly safe at home and wherever they go when they are alone,” Marty said, “and having Lilly be quiet for awhile wouldn’t be too bad.”  
“Marty!”  
“Brothers think alike!”  
“I ask that you shut Kurt up too please.”  
“Hey!”  
“Me thanks God for everything!” blurted Lilly, “Oh, and Jesus too! Jesus too!”  
“And finally,” Marty spoke softly, a small smile on his face, “I thank you, God, for bringing Hope into my life.”  
Hope blinked. Marty glanced at her.  
“She’s the greatest best friend I’ve ever had. Thank you. Amen.”  
“Amen,” the family said at once, releasing hands and opening their eyes.  
“Let’s eat,” Emily said, and everyone picked up their spoons.  
Everyone except Hope. She didn’t move a muscle.  
“Hope, what’s wrong?” Marty leaned forward, surprised when he saw there were tears on her face.  
She sniffled, cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. She had no idea what was going on with her. She just felt this overwhelming sadness inside her. The kind words she’d just heard, the yellow light above the table, the warm-smelling aroma of soup. They all gave her such a strange feeling.  
“Don’t cry, Hope!” exclaimed Lilly, latching onto the girl’s arm.  
“I’m sorry.” Hope wiped away the tears on her cheeks.  
“Are your injuries hurting you?” asked Emily, eyelids hovered over her concerned gaze.  
Hope shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”  
“I’ll help you put more ointment on later, just in case,” the woman said, looking back down at her bowl.  
“Thank you.”  
“Now push your hair back and eat.”  
“Yes, ma’am.” Hope wiped her eyes once more. Then she pushed her hair behind her ears and started to eat her soup.  
Everyone went back to smiling and bantering after five minutes.  
Hope decided not to ponder on her strange sadness. Instead, she focused on enjoying the meal with Marty and his family.


	3. Jet

Hope grew close with Marty’s family. She listened to Emily and did the chores she assigned her. She played with Lillian and listened to all her stories. Kurt taught her how to tell time, and Hope taught him how to pickpocket—which he used to prank Marty.  
Hope grew even closer with Marty. They played in the snow, drank hot chocolate, and watched cheap DVDs. Sometimes, all they did was talk. It didn’t matter what they did. Everything was fun in Marty’s company.  
Hope learned more about Marty too. She learned how he loved marshmallows, and how he curled his toes when he was cold, and how his eyes sparkled before he’d start laughing.   
She told him her secrets. She told him how she’d been on the streets since she was seven. She told him how she couldn’t remember anything before that. She told him about the friend who’d given her his leather jacket.  
Meanwhile, Ray and Jingle got very close. They played tag, shared their food, and cuddled together. Needless to say, they were an adorable sight.  
Hope’s injuries healed in two weeks. She stayed for two weeks. Then she snuck out in the middle of the night with her loyal Ray by her side.  
The streets had called her back.

The next morning, Hope stole her and Ray’s breakfast; some bread and cheese from a couple’s date in a café. Practiced stealth had allowed her to go unseen.  
They sat behind a red garbage bin in a dirty alleyway. Hope stroked Ray’s ears, drooping sadly.  
“You know, you could’ve stayed with Jingle if you wanted to,” Hope told him.  
Ray whined defiantly and rubbed his nose against her hand.  
Hope hugged him close. “Thanks for keeping me company.” Ray purred and kissed her cheek, making her smile.  
Suddenly, Hope smelled cigarette smoke close by.  
Very close by.  
She looked and saw a man standing against the wall beside them, who she could’ve sworn wasn’t there a minute ago. He was wearing a dark toque and clothes, covered in snowflakes.   
He was a fellow ‘stray’.  
Hope studied him, trying to figure out if he was a threat or not. He hadn’t done anything to bother them. It didn’t look like he was going to either.   
Then the stray spoke, “Don’t ya recognize me, Hope Nancy?”  
Hope froze. There was only one person who called her that.  
“Is that you, Jet?”  
The man took one more puff of his cigarette, then faced her. Sure enough, those were Jet’s familiar, dark grey eyes.  
Her old friend smiled, small and faint. “Ya’ve grown, kiddo.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”  
Hope watched Jet press his cigarette to his lips and blow softly, smoke filling the air. Ray poked his nose curiously at Jet’s thigh. Jet began petting him and Ray purred.  
“No.”  
Hope studied her friend’s face. There were bags under his eyes, a new scar on his forehead, and his complexion was too pale. He looked the same as Hope remembered him. But he was different without his jacket.  
“How long are you staying in the city?”  
Jet took his final drag, then dropped the butt on the ground, and crushed it with his foot. “Dunno.”  
“I missed you.”  
“I... was gone a long time.”  
Hope smiled. Jet had a strange way with words, but their true meaning never flew over Hope’s head.   
“So,” Jet began, “Ya got yerrself a boyfriend, moved in with his family, and left without saying goodbye, huh.”  
Blood rushed to Hope’s cheeks. “Marty isn’t my boyfriend... but yeah, that’s pretty much what happened in a nutshell.”  
“Were ya happy?”  
Hope looked down at her shoes, embarrassed, even though Jet wasn’t looking at her. “Yes.”  
“Then why’d ya leave?” His tone was bland, but there was a hard edge in his voice.  
Hope looked at him. “The same reason you did.”  
Jet continued to stare at the wall in front of them. Then he sighed, “Ya let me rub off on ya too much, kiddo.”  
Hope shrugged.  
A thought popped up in her mind then, making her smile and stand up, turning to Jet. “I want to show you something.”  
Then she turned around and started walking, Ray immediately following after.  
Jet blinked, then stood up and started following as well. “Show me what?”  
Hope grinned back at him. “You’ll see.”

She lead him past the frozen pond and the library, billboards and streetlights, and once across the street. Jet didn’t ask her where she was taking him, but he kept looking around, his curiosity evident. Ray had been confused at first, but he soon figured out where his girl was going and began leading the way himself.  
“This is it,” Hope said when they arrived. She stopped on the ledge hovering over the river.  
Jet went to stand next to her, gazing at the sight.  
Hope frowned up at the grey sky. “It’s prettier when the sun is rising.”  
Jet looked at her questioningly.  
“The sun rises between those two buildings and it makes the ice light up,”she explained, pointing at the buildings on the other side of the river. A smile grew on her face. “Marty showed it to me.”  
Jet watched her for a moment. Then he sat down, dangling his legs over the edge. His right hand dug into his pocket for another cigarette, while Ray nudged his left. He fiddled with his old lighter a few times before getting a flame. Ray kept nudging him. He pressed the cigarette to his lips, then started petting Ray, making the cat purr.   
“That boy must be real important to ya.”  
Hope nodded, rubbing her cheek on her scarf. The scarf Marty gave her. “He is,” she said quietly.  
“Then why aren’t ya with him?” Jet asked. He didn’t look at her.  
Hope shot an annoyed look at the side of his head. “You know why, Jet. The streets’ call.”  
Jet still didn’t look at her. He had a habit of not looking at people when he was talking to them.  
He took a drag of his cigarette. “I’m staying until I can convince ya to go back to yer boyfriend.”  
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Hope huffed, crossing her arms, “And you’re a hypocrite.”  
“Yup.”


	4. We'll Find Her

Marty sighed exhaustedly, dropping his head on his desk. He ached everywhere from being on his feet for hours, searching for Hope.  
“You have to relax,” said Gray, his tone sympathetic.  
“I can’t!” Marty whined at his friend. He dropped his head back on his desk with a thud, whimpering sadly.  
It’d been a few days since Hope had disappeared. Marty grew more worried by the day. He hadn’t been eating or sleeping much.  
Gray placed a hand on the back of Marty’s neck, massaging it in that gentle, comforting way he always did when Marty was upset. He had started when they were five. Marty used to get real bad migraines that’d spread all the way to his shoulders. Gray’s mom was a chiropractor, so he knew a few things.  
“Just try,” he said, “I hate seeing you like this, you know?”  
Marty shut his eyes and breathed in and out slowly. The tension gradually left his body, his posture relaxing.  
Gray patted his neck lightly. “Good boy.”  
Marty gave him a smile. For as long as he could remember, Gray had always had his back. Even when his anxieties had frustrated Gray to the point of wanting to slap him. Which he had.  
“Thanks.”  
“Don’t sweat it.”  
They fell into silence, but it didn’t make much of a difference in the rowdy classroom. The teacher was late and the students were using this precious time to make a ruckus.  
“Why did she leave anyway?” Gray asked. Marty had told him about Hope. He’d seen her once through Marty’s living room window when they were walking home together. “She’s been like a stray cat for a good chunk of her life, right? Shouldn’t she want a cozy, warm home?”  
Marty sighed, “I don’t know.” He’d thought Hope was going to stay forever.  
Gray frowned at his sad friend. He tried to joke, “Girls are impossible to read. I’m glad I like guys.”  
“Yeah...” Marty mumbled solemnly.  
Gray deflated. His jokes always managed to boast his best friend’s spirit.   
This was bad.  
“Hey,” he said softly, grasping Marty’s shoulder, “I’ll tell you what. How about you and me look for her after school together?” He may have only seen her once, but nobody could forget hair that red.  
Marty’s face lit up and Gray smiled. “We’ll cover more ground that way. Sound good?”  
“You really mean that?” Marty asked.  
“Would I lie?”  
Marty grinned so widely, it looked like his face might break. “Max Gray, you are the best.”  
Gray’s eyes widened and he quickly slapped his hand over Marty’s mouth, looking around worriedly. “I told you never to use my full name in public!” he hissed.  
Marty said something, but Gray didn’t quite catch it, so he removed his hand. “Sorry,” Marty repeated, smiling, “but I had to.”  
Gray softened, deciding to let it slide this time. Marty was happy now and that’s what was important.

It was tricky deciding where to start. Gray suggested that it might be easier to split up. So Marty went right and Gray went left with the agreement to meet up in front of the grocery store later. They searched what felt like every inch of New York.  
Gray arrived at the meeting point first, sweaty and drained, and waited for Marty on a bench. When half an hour passed and he still wasn’t there, Gray pulled out his phone to call him. Then put it back when he remembered that Marty didn’t have a phone. He watched the sky as the sunset disappeared. He was on the verge of panic when a whole hour had passed and Marty still didn’t show.  
Two hours had passed when Gray finally saw Marty trudging up to the store by himself.  
He patted the spot next to him. “Take a rest, buddy. We’ll go home in a bit.”  
Marty practically collapsed onto the bench, dried tear tracks visible on his cheeks.  
Gray squeezed his shoulder soothingly. “You did your best.”  
They sat together in silence for a little less than ten minutes, Marty falling in and out of sleep. When it started to snow, Gray decided it was about time they went back. Mrs. Carlson was going to be so angry at them.  
He patted Marty’s leg, waking him up. “Time to go,” he said, standing up slowly. There was no way he’d be able to curl tomorrow.  
He held his hand out for Marty to take.  
“We’re never going to find her,” he muttered.  
Gray clutched Marty’s wrist and pulled him to his feet, throwing Marty’s arm around his shoulders. “We’ll find her,” he told him and started walking, letting Marty use him as a crutch.

Mrs. Carlson was standing in the doorway when they got back, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Gray was certain she was going to slap Marty when she approached them, but was surprised when she hugged him instead.  
Women would never cease to confuse him.  
Marty’s hot brother was at a friend’s and his little sister was already in bed, so it was just the two of them at the table. They ate leftovers from dinner, neither saying a word. The only sound was that of the furnace humming. Gray couldn’t remember a time he’d ever felt so awkward in Marty’s house.  
Marty finished eating first and rinsed his plate in the sink, put it in the dishwasher, then went to his room. Gray hurried to finish his own plate. He gulped down his glass of milk, then took his plate to the sink.  
“Want me to call your mom, Gray?” Mrs. Carlson asked.  
Gray jumped at the sound of her voice. She’d been so quiet, he forgot that she was standing there.  
“No, that’s okay. She knows,” he replied. His mom always assumed he was at Marty’s when he didn’t come home after school.  
He put his plate in the dishwasher. But before he could leave the kitchen, Mrs. Carlson called him.  
“Gray?”  
“Yes?” He turned back around.  
Mrs. Carlson’s eyes looked soft and sad. “Please help my son feel better.”  
Gray had known Mrs. Carlson as Marty’s strict mom since they were children. She rarely smiled or showed any kind of emotion. She hardly spoke and wasn’t one for affection. Gray had never even seen her kiss her husband.  
“Of course,” he stammered, caught off guard, “Of course I will. Leave it to me.”  
Mrs. Carlson’s lips curled in a small smile.  
Gray smiled back at her.  
Then he headed to Marty’s bedroom. Marty was laying on top of his blankets, his arm draped over his eyes. Gray stood in the door, staring at him for a moment. He knew Marty better than anyone, but he’d never seen him so down before.  
That red-haired girl clearly had been more than just a friend.  
Gray went and jumped on Marty’s bed, getting comfortable on Marty’s legs. Marty grunted, but said nothing.  
The room was silent for a few minutes.  
Then Marty mumbled, “We’re never going to find her.”  
Gray patted his ankle. “We’ll find her.”


	5. Red Like Her Hair

(3 weeks later)  
Hope met Jet when she was seven. He was sixteen, but looked older than he really was—like life had worn him down. He wandered the country a lot, having nowhere he really wanted to be. He smoked too; he told her that the smoking had replaced the drugs. Despite all that, he still took her under his wing and he was good to her. He wasn’t always around and he definitely wasn’t the best role model, but he was good.  
Hope remembered the first thing he said to her.  
“Ain’t ever seen anything redder than that mop of yers.”  
She hadn’t liked that and started bawling. Thinking back on Jet’s fluster made Hope smile now. It was the most emotion she’d ever seen him show.   
Marty had once said something about her hair too. She remembered that very well. They were outside and he had been smiling at her, this strange, dreamy smile on his face.  
“Reminds me of the sunrise.”  
It had made her heart race and her face hot. Marty must’ve felt the same way because he’d blushed as well.  
She missed him. She really did. More than she’d ever missed anyone. Marty was different. He was special. He’d filled a spot inside her and made her heart feel complete. He’d made the world seem brighter and taught her how to smile.  
She missed him a lot.  
But she couldn’t stay with him. And she couldn’t ask him to go with her. He wasn’t like her. Marty needed stability, needed comfort, needed familiarity. It was what made him who he was. And Hope liked that about him. She would never ask him to give that up; she would never want him to change.  
But Hope needed to move constantly, needed to fight, needed adventure. She was made up of survival. She was tooth and nail. She was hard. There was nothing soft or smooth about her; just rough edges and jagged cracks.  
Maybe she was this way because of Jet. He’d taught her everything she knew. He was the reason she knew how to survive. Or maybe the blood of gypsies had always flowed through her.  
It didn’t matter. This was how she was.  
Although she did miss Marty, she didn’t regret her decision.  
But she never expected to feel the piercing, horrid pain of a knife plunging into her side.  
Her hair matched the colour of her blood.  
So that was why so many people noticed her hair.

Ray lead the way, running as fast as he could with a limp. Jet ran after him, Hope unconscious and bleeding in his arms.  
“Dammit, Hope Nancy!” he grunted. The side of his face was swollen, his ribs burned, and his hand was numb. “Don’t ya dare die on me,” he begged, pressing down even harder on Hope’s wound.  
Ray meowed at him. He was lagging behind, exhaustion seeping into him. He ran faster, ignoring the pain. He was functioning solely on adrenaline. But he was almost out of strength and it was taking everything within him not to drop Hope.  
Sparing a glance at the girl, he saw that she was still losing blood fast even with his numb hand over her wound.  
Her breathing was shallow.  
Fear clutched Jet’s heart.  
Then Ray mewled, scratching on the door of a certain small house.  
Panting, Jet wobbled up the little stone steps, the pain slowly becoming too much to bear, and rang the doorbell with his forehead.

“~Oh yeah, she broke his heart, she broke it good. Oh yeah! And now he’s sitting on the counter for some weird reason, looking out the window, waiting for her to come—”   
“Would you SHUT UP already, Kurt?!” Marty blurted.  
Kurt laughed, “Lighten up, bro. I’m getting some major inspiration for my song from you.”  
Marty rolled his eyes. “Oh don’t even start. You’re a horrible singer.”  
“Hey, not true.”  
“Your voice sounds like a dying mule.”  
“Well Lilly doesn’t think so. Right, Lilly?”  
Their little sister whined, “Just be quiet! I’m trying to watch Care Bears!”  
Marty smiled.  
“Well...” Kurt thought for a moment. “Mom doesn’t think so!” he proclaimed. He looked to the woman sitting at the table. “Right, Mom?”  
Without looking up from her book, Emily responded, “I just want you to finish school, son.”  
Marty laughed.  
Kurt sighed and turned to the TV, slouching on the sofa and resting his arm around Lillian beside him. “Think what you want. Dad would take my side.”  
Lillian looked up at him then, an earnest expression on her face. “No he wouldn’t.”  
Kurt gawked at her and removed his arm from her shoulders.  
Marty laughed again. His mind had been on Hope for far too long. Making fun of his brother was a great distraction.  
Then the doorbell rang. Kurt got up and went to answer it.  
Standing in the doorway was an injured young man with a familiar black cat and a very familiar red-haired girl in his arms.  
Kurt froze, feeling like he’d just swallowed ice.  
There was so much blood.  
“Please,” the man said, out of breath, and looking like he could fall over any second, “she needs help. Get ‘er to a hospital. Take ‘er. Take ‘er. Hurry up and take ‘er!”   
Kurt quickly took Hope from the man’s arms, trying not jostle her in his nervous grasp. Almost instantly, the hurt man fell against the wall, groaning.  
“Mom!” Kurt shouted, “Get the keys, we need to get to the hospital!”


	6. Fear

The car was crammed and deathly silent. Emily had exceeded the speed limit and driven through almost every red light. Kurt was in the back with Hope and Jet, and Jingle and Ray were huddled together at their feet. Marty was in the passenger seat with Lillian on his lap. Nobody had thought of seatbelts.  
Marty’s heart was racing. He could think of nothing. His mind had gone blank and his ears had started ringing when he saw Hope in Kurt’s arms. He hadn’t felt it when his mother shoved him into the car.  
His heart was racing. That was all he knew.  
Suddenly, there was a soft groan from the back.   
Marty looked over his shoulder. Hope’s eyes were still closed, but her fingers were squeezing Jet’s sleeve.  
“Hope, are you awake?” Emily asked.  
She groaned again.  
“Don’t worry, hun. You’re okay,” Emily told her.  
Hope didn’t respond. Her grip on Jet’s sleeve disappeared.  
Marty’s heart jerked. “Did she—”   
“No, she’s still breathing,” Kurt said before he could finish his sentence.  
Marty exhaled shakily. He didn’t know what he would do if Hope... if Hope—  
“Marty.” Lillian put her hands on his face. “It’s okay,” she said.  
It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. Hope was bleeding, and Marty’s heart was racing, and his head hurt—  
“Hey,” said Kurt, snapping Marty out of his thoughts once again. He leaned forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”  
Marty tried to gulp down the lump in his throat. He trembled still and his heart was still racing. But he had to believe his siblings. He had to. He couldn’t bear to think otherwise.

When they got to the hospital, Hope was immediately taken in by paramedics. An hour had passed since then and they’d yet to receive word of her condition. They waited in the lobby.  
Emily was resting her eyes, but her jaw was tense. Kurt was slumped in his chair, ear pressed to his shoulder and snoring. Lillian squirmed. And Marty was pacing, unable to stay still.  
Not once had his heart stopped pounding.  
He’d been praying all this time, repeating the same phrase over and over again under his breath, until it’d become a mantra; please God, please God, please God.  
He needed to know Hope was okay. He needed to see her. He needed to talk to her.  
“Marty,” Emily suddenly said, “why don’t you get some fresh air?’  
Marty nodded. He wanted to stay in case the doctor came, but the room was starting to suffocate him.  
He went outside. The wind had stopped, snowflakes drifting down from the clear night sky. The air was cold, but gentle, almost like silk on skin.  
Jet was sitting on the steps. Marty had forgotten about him.  
“Hi,” he croaked, clearing his throat.  
Jet looked at him. He nodded his head in greeting.  
Marty gazed at the empty spot next to him. After some hesitation, he sat down beside him.  
The man was holding a pack of cigarettes. He looked at Marty again, an unreadable expression on his bruised face. “Are ya that boy Hope loves?”  
Marty blinked. Then his cheeks turned so red, they rivalled the colour of a tomato. “No! I mean, yes! I mean—did she say that? No, I mean, I’m her friend.” He averted his eyes to his boots.  
“Well whatever ya are, thanks fer helping ‘er.” Jet smiled faintly, his lazy eye straining to focus on Marty. Then he went back to staring at his cigarettes.  
“Aren’t you going to use one?” Marty asked curiously.  
“I don’t smoke when I’m stressed. Only when I want ta,” Jet explained, “But it helps ta hold em.”  
Marty didn’t understand, but he nodded anyways.  
Jet gave him a look then. “Ya don’t want one, do ya?”  
“No! No, of course not!” Marty quickly said.  
Jet smiled again. “There’s a thin line between it controlling ye and ye controlling it,” he said. His smile faded. “I won’t let anythin’ control me again.”  
Marty considered asking what he meant. But Jet struck him as the kind of person who didn’t have a lot to be proud of. Marty didn’t want to overstep his boundaries.  
It was quiet for a moment, Marty fidgeting awkwardly.  
Then Jet asked, “Why’d ya help her?”  
“What?”  
“Ye didn’t have to bring her food. Ye didn’t have to show her the sunrise and the ice. So why did ya?”  
Marty looked at the ground. “I’d seen her around before. Under the bridge or at the park. I always felt bad for her!” He frowned sadly. “Nobody deserves to live like that. I wanted to do something for her, but I was scared! I didn’t know how she’d react if I approached her.”  
Jet wasn’t looking at him, but he was listening.  
“Then one day, I wasn’t scared. I’d been praying, you see, and I think God gave me courage,” Marty continued, “After that, I got to know her a little. And pretty soon, we became friends... and the next thing I knew, I didn’t feel bad for her anymore. I just... really, really cared about her.” Marty wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I want her to be okay,” his voice cracked, “She has to be okay! She just has to. She has to...” He buried his head in his knees, quivering.  
Jet didn’t say anything at first. Then he sighed, “Ye’re a good kid, Marty.”  
A few minutes later, Emily came outside. “She’s not awake yet, but you can see her now, son.”  
Marty sniffled, then swiped his arm over his eyes. He stood up and went inside.  
Emily watched him disappear down the hallway with the doctor. Then she turned her gaze to Jet.  
“So you’re Hope’s guardian?”  
Jet didn’t look at her. “Ye could say that, yeah.”

Her hair was sprawled all over the pillow, shimmering bright red like tinsel on the Christmas tree. She was pale and there were bandages on her face. But she was still as beautiful as the sunrise.  
Marty sat in the chair beside her, having been told by the doctor to talk to her; that hearing a familiar voice could help her regain consciousness.  
There was just one problem. He didn’t know what to say.  
So he found himself, rambling, “Hey Hope, it’s me. Marty. Though you can, uh, probably tell. By my voice. Obviously. But then again, maybe you can’t hear me at all. I don’t... know.” He licked his lips, drumming his fingers on the armrest, and looked around him.  
His gaze landed on the glass wall in the room, watching the snow fall.  
“You’re in a hospital,” he blabbed, “Uh, you may not have known that. Well, maybe you did. But um... I just wanted... to make sure. That you knew. Now you know. Unless you already knew.”  
Marty sighed at himself.  
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Hope... I don’t know anything when it comes to you.” He was quiet for a moment. Then he frowned. “Actually, that’s not completely true.” He leaned forward and took Hope’s hand.  
She was warm.  
“I know what makes you laugh. I know you’re really strong. I know you like doing things on your own.” A lump rose in Marty’s throat. “I know your favourite food is chicken, and your favourite colour is purple. I know you like dolls, and how your eyes light up when you’re happy. I know you can be shy, which is really cute, and I know you’re funny, and kind, and—”   
Marty inhaled sharply.  
“And I know you’re gonna wake up,” he whispered, his vision blurring with tears, “You have to. Please. I need you. I want to introduce you to Gray, and I want to drink hot cocoa with you, and play in the snow. I wanna listen to your laugh. I-I wanna show you this movie I found. So please just wake up! Wake up already! I need you to wake up!”  
He broke down crying once again, burying his face in his arms, and squeezing Hope’s hand like a lifeline. He stayed like that for what felt like forever.  
Meanwhile, the snow merely continued to drift gracefully in the windless night.  
But eventually, Hope’s lashes fluttered and her eyes opened slowly. She looked around, processing her surroundings. Then her gaze landed on Marty, crying against her bed. She looked at his hand in hers. She gave his palm a squeeze.  
Marty’s sobs ceased and he instantly shot up. He stared at Hope, who blinked tiredly at him. He was surprised. Then relief and joy consumed him. Then finally, he threw his arms around Hope and started bawling all over again.  
“Don’t ever do anything like that again, okay Hope? Never again! I love you, okay!”  
In the midst of his tears, Hope gently hugged him back.


	7. I Can't Promise That

When Emily opened the car door, Ray immediately leaped out and scampered up to his girl. Hope bent down carefully and gathered him in her arms, holding him close while he purred.  
“Kurt, front. Marty, help your sister into her carseat. Watch out for Jingle,” ordered Emily.  
Marty and Lillian climbed into the back, stepping over Jingle—who meowed irritably at their invasion. Kurt made his way around the back of the car to the passenger side.  
Emily looked over at Jet. “Are you sure you don’t want a ride?”  
Jet shook his head.  
“Alright. Whenever you’re ready, Hope.”  
Hope nodded at Emily, then turned towards Jet. Her heart was heavy with sadness. Jet was hitting the road again and leaving New York.  
“Will I see you again?” she asked. She hated telling him goodbye.  
Jet shrugged. He wasn’t looking at her, but Hope could tell he was sad too.  
“Take care of yourself,” she told him.  
Jet nodded. He gave her a small smile and ruffled her hair. “Don’t end up like me, ya hear?”  
Hope smiled back. “I hear.”  
Jet extended his hand to shake hers. However, she surprised him with a hug. Awkwardly, Jet leaned down and hugged her back. He wasn’t usually affectionate, but this time he held her close and pressed his cheek to her ear.  
Slowly and reluctantly, Hope let go of him, gazing at him one last time. Then without another word, she got into the car.  
She didn’t look back, as they drove off down the street. She could picture Jet in her head, watching them until they disappeared down the corner. Then he’d turn in the direction opposite of them, put his hands in his pockets, and start walking.  
She tugged her jacket closer to her.  
She had a feeling she wouldn’t see Jet again.

It was almost two in the morning by the time they got back to the house. Emily carried Lillian to bed. Kurt staggered tiredly to his room, leaving Marty and Hope by themselves.  
They sat on the couch and got under the blanket, their toes touching. Neither said a word for a long time, stealing nervous glances at each other.  
Finally, it was Marty who spoke up, “So how’ve you been? You know, before you got stabbed.”  
If slapping his forehead wouldn’t have made him look like an even bigger fool than he already was, he would have.  
“Fine, fine,” replied Hope, “How have you been?”  
“Oh, um, fine.”  
...The silence was painstaking.  
Marty sighed and looked Hope in the eye. “Why did you leave?” he asked, “I was so worried. I looked everywhere for you, but I never found you.”  
Hope blinked, surprised. “You did?”  
“Of course I did! Why wouldn’t I?” Marty exclaimed.  
Hope looked down. “I... don’t know.”  
Marty pursed his lips. But then he sighed again. He was never very good at being angry. “Why did you leave me?” he asked again.  
“I...” Hope faltered, unsure if he would understand. He wasn’t like her. “I heard the streets’ call.”  
Marty frowned. “What’s the streets’ call?”  
Hope knew he wouldn’t understand. “It’s...” She thought of the right way to describe it, “a feeling. It’s when you have to move with the wind. When you can’t stay in one place.”  
“I... I don’t get it,” Marty stammered, “You like being homeless?”  
“It’s not about that,” Hope said, “It’s about having everywhere to go and nothing holding you back.”  
“Holding you back,” Marty whispered, “I was holding you back?’  
The anguish in Marty’s eyes shook Hope to her core. “No, Marty, I didn’t mean it in that way!”  
“It doesn’t matter how you meant it,” Marty said, backing up so their toes were no longer touching, “You’re going to leave me again, aren’t you?”  
“Well... I... I...”  
“Please,” Marty said quietly, “just promise me you’ll stay.”  
Hope stared at him helplessly. She cared about him. She cared about him so much, but she couldn’t give him the answer he wanted. She wished she could, but she couldn’t.  
“I’m sorry. I can’t promise that. I’m sorry.”  
It choked her when Marty’s face fell.  
Both their feet were cold.


	8. Jacket

(2 weeks later)  
Hope laid her leather jacket over Marty’s sleeping form, careful not to wake him. She gazed down at his peaceful expression, frowning sadly. The splatter of freckles across his cheeks and nose made her want to reach out and trace them.  
She hated to do this to him again. She hated to hurt him again. But she couldn’t stay any longer. The streets were calling her once again and this time, they were telling her to go further. She knew New York like the back of her hand; she needed to go someplace new.  
She was going to miss Marty though. And she knew he was going to miss her too.  
For a moment, she debated waking him up and asking him to go with her. Maybe he’d say yes, but he’d end up regretting it later on. He would miss his family too much. Hope couldn’t do that to him.  
She found herself looking to the night sky and clasping her hands together under her chin. “Dear God,” she began quietly, “I’ve never prayed before, so I’m sorry if I’m bad at this. I just want You to do one thing for me.”  
She looked at Marty.  
“Look after him.”  
Letting her hands drop, she kneeled beside Marty’s bed and pressed a featherlight kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Marty. Goodbye,” she whispered and stood up.

She grabbed her lilac scarf off the coffee table and put it on, then turned the doorknob.  
She heard a meow and looked down at her feet, where Ray was, ready to follow her wherever she went. She smiled at him, feeling much lighter with her loyal companion by her side.  
“Come on,” Hope whispered, ushering Ray out the door.  
The wind pulled at her hair, calling her somewhere far away.  
“Let’s see what’s out there.”


	9. Life Goes On

She hadn’t even stayed a month. He knew she would leave eventually. But he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Her injury wasn’t even healed completely.  
Marty sighed for what felt like the millionth time.  
He missed her. He missed her so much, it physically hurt. It was an excruciating ache inside his chest and he couldn’t make it go away, no matter what he did.  
He wondered if she felt the same.  
He curled around her jacket. It was the only thing that made the pain a little more bearable.

(New Jersey)

Ray rolled around in the snow, meowing playfully.  
Hope washed the car’s windshield, scrubbing away the frost. She dipped her rag into her bucket of warm, soapy water, standing on the tips of her toes to reach the middle of the windshield.  
Leaning against the side of the gas station, was the owner of the car with a cigarette between her fingers.  
“Why are you smiling?” she asked suddenly.  
Hope looked at her. “I’m happy,” she answered simply.  
The woman raised a curious eyebrow. “What about?”  
Hope shrugged, flicking her wet fingers at Ray. Ray meowed irritably at her and she chuckled. “I don’t know,” she answered the woman honestly, “I’m just happy.”  
A small smirk grew on the woman’s lips. “You look like you’re in love,” she said.  
“Well, there is this boy,” Hope responded, able to picture him as clear as day, “I haven’t seen him in awhile. But I still think of him from time to time.” Sometimes she wished she really had asked him to go with her. “He’s the one who introduced me to God.” And that had filled a void inside her she never knew was there, until it didn’t hurt anymore.  
The woman finished her cigarette, dropping it on the ground and crushing it with her boot.  
“All done,” Hope announced. The windshield was spotless, except for the awful crack protruding across it.  
The woman walked up to Hope, running a hand through her short red hair. A wave of familiarity washed over Hope when she saw the woman’s eyes; the same dark grey as Jet.  
“You don’t have to pay me. I’m not running an official business after all,” Hope told her.  
“What’s your name, kid?” the woman asked, digging into her jacket pocket.  
“Hope. Like I said, you don’t have to pay me.”  
“No. I’ll do you one better,” the woman took out her car keys, “I live in a tiny trailer, but I wouldn’t mind a roommate. If you’re willing to bunk with a deadbeat like me.”  
Hope blinked in surprise. “I... Why?”  
The woman shrugged. “I feel like it.”  
Hope stared at her. Then she laughed and grinned. “What’s your name?”  
“Marie.”

Hope stroked Ray’s ear. She breathed carefully, her side throbbing in pain. The wound was healing, it just wasn’t healing fast enough.  
The door opened then, dragging across the checkered floor loudly, the sound of keys being tossed into the dish on the little counter by the sink—full of dirty dishes.  
“Hey, said Marie, with a cigarette in her mouth and an armful of groceries. She eyed Hope with concern. “You feeling okay?”  
“I’m alive,” Hope replied honestly.  
Marie set the grocery bags on the counter, pulling out a granola bar box. She picked unsuccessfully at the opening, looking around for the scissors, and muttering curses at her own untidiness. She found them in the sink with the dishes.  
“Will you be good for going someplace tomorrow?” she asked, cutting the box open.  
“Where are we going?” Hope asked curiously. It wasn’t that they didn’t go out; they just rarely went out together.  
“This cafe I know. Here,” Marie handed Hope a granola bar, “I owe this guy a favour and I’m calling it in.”  
Hope arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”  
“Whatever. He’s an old friend. He’ll give you a job if I ask.”  
Ray’s ears perked when he heard Marie opening the bag of cat food. He jumped off the bed, trotting over to his bowl on the floor and waiting patiently as she filled it. He dug in the moment she was finished.  
“You’re getting me a job?” Hope asked, biting into her bar.  
“Duh. Here,” Marie replied, handing her the milk carton. Hope crawled to the edge of the bed and put it in the fridge. “I didn’t invite you to live with me just because I like you. I can make rent money off of you, you know.”  
Hope smiled at her. “But you do like me.”  
Marie rolled her eyes. “I’ll like you better when you’re working.”

Waitressing was hard. Hope didn’t make very much, but it was enough to cover half of Marie’s bills. And although it was hard, it had its perks. Hope had made friends with her two coworkers, Janice and Mitchell.  
Janice was a sweet young lady in a wheelchair, who, despite being five years older than Hope, had a lot in common with her. She had been homeless before reuniting with her aunt at fifteen. Hope found her easy to talk to.  
Mitchell was a quiet man in his early twenties. Although not good with words, he spoke through expressions and gestures. He did what he wanted and didn’t care what other people thought. He was the kind of person you could count on to defend you.  
Marc was Hope’s boss. He was rather easygoing, sometimes slacking off on his own job. Business wasn’t booming, but he kept it afloat because he was good with people.  
Hope pushed on the door of the trailer, grunting from the effort. She could hear Ray meowing at her from the inside. She called out to him, telling him she’d be right there to feed him.  
They really needed to fix these hinges.  
With a huff, Hope thrusted her hip against the door four times, finally getting it open far enough for her to get in.  
Ray was immediately at her feet, nuzzling her ankles affectionately.  
“Hey boy, I missed you too.”  
Hope chucked her hip at the door again until it shut with a click.  
“Where’s Marie?” she wondered out loud, grabbing Ray’s cat foot out of the cabinet. She paused, spotting a note on the counter. She picked it up, hoping that Marie remembered that she was illiterate and used small words.

Hey, I’ve left the city.  
Don’t know when I’ll be back.  
Or if I will.  
There’s money under my pillow.  
It should pay two months’ worth of bills.  
If you need a better job, tell Marc to get in touch with Natalie for you.  
I owe her a favour too.  
\- Marie

Ray was pawing at Hope’s legs impatiently by the time she was done reading.  
“Huh,” she muttered, unsure of what to think.  
She couldn’t say that she would miss Marie. The woman might’ve given her a roof over her head, but they hadn’t lived together for long. They hadn’t shared a real conversation either. They closest they’d ever been was that night Marie had stumbled in, drunk, and Hope helped her to bed.  
Honestly, Hope didn’t know how to feel.  
Ray meowed at her again.  
Hope was living by herself now. She had a real place to truly call home now. She had a job, she had money, and she had friends. She had everything she’d been looking for her whole life.  
Ray mewled then, scaring Hope out of her thoughts.  
“Alright, alright! Wow, I should’ve named you Prince Demanding.”  
Ray mewled again.  
“Oh quiet down, I’m kidding!”  
Hope smiled, as she put Ray’s food in his dish. She wished Jet could see her now. How proud he’d be.

(New York)

This had gone on long enough, Gray decided. Marty was done being sad. They were going out and having fun, whether Marty wanted to or not.  
So, with this plan in mind, Gray marched on over to his best friend’s house. He was welcomed in by Marty’s hot older brother, who Gray tried not to openly stare at. Lillian said hi to him. And Emily Carlson said it was good to see him.  
Gray told them he was here for Marty. Kurt wished him luck getting the log out of bed, and Gray choked on an embarrassing giggle when he ruffled his hair.  
He waltzed right into Marty’s room. “Hey, it’s Gray!” he called, looking around.  
“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” came a muffled voice from under the bedsheets.  
Gray was grateful he got a response. “I never knock. You know that.”  
“What would you have done if I was changing or something?’  
“Dude, I see you naked everyday in the change room before gym. Oh, nice butt by the way.”  
“Gee, thanks. I’m so touched.”  
“Not as nice as your brother’s though.”  
“I did not need to hear that!”  
Gray chuckled. “Alright, rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!” He yanked the covers off his friend, revealing Marty’s dishevelled figure curled around Hope’s leather jacket. Gray smirked. “Some beauty you are.”  
Marty sighed, “At least I don’t have a cowlick.”  
“Hey! Cowlicks make a lovely hairstyle.” Gray ran a hand through his curls.  
“You’re only saying that because you can’t get rid of yours.”  
“I have literally tried everything. But I’m not here to talk about hair, okay!” Though what he wanted to do now, was find a mirror and attempt to fix it again. Stay focused, Gray! You have a mission to carry out. “I’m here to take you out!” he exclaimed.  
Marty raised a brow at him. “You know, just because you’re gay, doesn’t mean you have to say that all the time. It gets annoying.”  
“Oh come on, man! You know what I mean!”  
“The answer is no. No, no, a thousand times no!”  
It was times like these Gray wanted to strangle Marty. “Okay, just because you’re straight, doesn’t mean you have to do that either. Now come on, let’s go to the arcade.” He grabbed Marty’s legs and started pulling him off the mattress, but Marty latched onto the bedpost.  
“Have you no honour? Can’t you accept when you’ve been rejected?”  
Gray sighed. A sarcastic Marty often resulted in an impatient Gray. “Seriously. You’re pissing me off now. Just get up and let’s go.”  
Marty curled up in his bed again. “Look, just leave me alone. I’m not in the mood.”  
Something in Gray suddenly snapped.  
“So what are you going to do?’ he asked, tone dangerously low, “Are you just gonna whine like this forever? Are you going to pause your whole life because of some stupid girl?”  
Marty blinked. He looked up slowly, a baffled frown on his face. “What?”  
“Are you?!” Gray demanded, his voice rising to a yell, “Are you just gonna let the world pass you by? Are you just gonna ignore everyone else’s problems?!”  
Marty’s shocked confusion at the change in his friend turned into realization when he saw Gray’s eyes turning red. He stood up and placed his hands on Gray’s tense shoulders.  
“Max,” he whispered gently, “what happened?”  
All the tension left Gray’s body and tears flooded his eyes. He croaked, “Someone said I was going to Hell.”  
Immediately, Marty embraced him, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his spine. Gray buried his nose in his shoulder and cried. Marty hugged him tighter.  
“I was there when you became a true Christian, Max. I’m sorry there are people who hurt you just because you exist. But I know you can face it because you’ve got God on your side,” Marty said with conviction.  
Gray hiccuped, “I-I came here to cheer you up. N-not the other way around.”  
“It’s okay. Besides, you were right,” Marty told him, “I do have to move on.”  
Gray sniffled and swiped at his eyes, resting his forehead on Marty’s shoulder. “I’m sorry she left,” he said.  
Marty looked at Hope’s jacket. He smiled a little. “It’s fine. At least she said goodbye.”  
In her own way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are nearing the end here, and I just wanted to say thank you to the few wonderful people who've read so far.
> 
> Thank you's to: Franki, Little Dreamer, and last but not least, Empty! ( I know you're there ;) )
> 
> Seriously, it means a lot to me you've taken the time to read this. I love you, guys!! Thanks so much!!


	10. Memory

(6 years later)  
Marty laughed while Gray shook his shoulder, insisting that unicorn horns had cotton candy inside them. He wasn’t really sure how they’d started talking about unicorns, but Gray wasn’t his best friend because he was normal. How boring life would be if he had a normal best friend.  
Eric and his sister Cora were laughing too.  
Gray whined and turned to Eric, bottom lip puckered in a pout. “You think I’m right, don’t you, sweetie?”  
Eric cleared his throat, laughed, and cleared his throat again. “Well babe, I’m not making fun of you, but—”   
“You know that I didn’t have to come all the way out to New Jersey just to see you.”  
“You’re right, you’re absolutely right. Unicorns have cotton candy in their horns. Man, you are so smart. I’m so lucky to have you.”  
Gray grinned and leaned against Eric’s shoulder. “That’s better.”  
Cora giggled, “I never thought double-dating with my brother would be so much fun.”  
“I never thought Gray would set me up with someone who isn’t as dramatic as him,” said Marty, making Cora laugh again.  
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Gray and Eric demanded simultaneously.  
“It means you’re a moron,” Marty replied, poking Gray in the chest.  
“And you’re an even bigger idiot on a date than you are at home,” said Cora, shoving her brother’s shoulder.  
“How dare you!”  
“I’m not an idiot! You are!”  
“Okay, enough about you dummies,” Cora then said, ignoring the offended looks Gray and Eric gave her. She placed her chin in her hand, leaning attentively towards Marty. “I think it’s so wonderful that you want to be a teacher. There’s nothing sweeter than a man who likes kids.”  
Marty smiled. “Thanks. My sister would disagree though. I’m not allowed to work in her school.” He had to admit he was actually having fun. Dating wasn’t something he usually enjoyed, but Cora was a great girl. And she was very pretty.  
Although, as Marty watched her twirl a strand of her black hair around her finger, he couldn’t help wishing that she had red hair.  
He liked girls with red hair.

“He did not!”  
Hope nodded fervently at her friend, a huge grin on her cheeks. “He did.”  
Janice grinned just as wide as Hope and leaned in closer to her. “What did you say?”  
Hope looked around first, as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Then she leaned closer as well. “I said yes.”  
If she could’ve, Janice would have jumped out of her wheelchair. Instead, she squealed and threw her arms up in the air. They were huddled so close together, Hope had to draw back quickly to avoid being struck.  
“That’s great! You’ve been waiting for this guy to ask you out for, like, ages!”  
“It’s only been two months,” Hope giggled.  
“That’s like an eternity!” exclaimed Janice, “How many hints have you dropped? Like, a hundred!”  
“Very small hints.”  
“I still don’t get why you didn’t just ask him out in the first place.”  
“David is my therapist. That would’ve been inappropriate.”  
“Oh, and him asking you isn’t?”  
“Okay, I see you point. But I was in no shape to be in a relationship two months ago. I needed a cane to walk and I could barely remember my own name.”  
“I guess,” Janice sighed. Then she smiled softly. “I’m glad you’re okay now.”  
Hope smiled back. “Me too.”  
“If you’re done gossiping, I suggest you two get to work before Marc sees you slacking off.”  
Janice jumped and whipped around. “Mitch!” she cried, “Don’t scare us like that!”  
Mitchell rolled his eyes.  
“Technically,” Hope began, “I’m allowed to slack off.”  
“Not when you take advantage of the fact,” said Mitchell, “Plus, you’ve been doing great since last month. You don’t need help moving around and most of your memory is back.”  
“Key word! Most of,” Hope told her other friend jokingly, “Where am I? Who are you?”  
“Not falling for that,” Mitchell said, “If you don’t get back to work, I will forever label you as Lazy and Despicable.”  
Hope and Janice sighed.  
“You’re such a killjoy, Mitch,” Janice pouted. Then she rolled away with her notepad on her lap.  
“Honestly, you could win an award. You deserve an award,” added Hope, walking away with a stack of menus in hand.  
Mitchell groaned, “I appreciate your friendship too.”

Marty was engrossed in a conversation with Cora when a waitress came over to give them their menus, and a familiar face Marty thought he’d never see again reentered his life.  
The waitress was Hope. His Hope. It was unmistakable. Her hair was as red as he remembered.  
She looked at him. Marty realized he should probably say something, instead of gaping at her like a fish.  
But then she smiled politely at him. “Can I help you?”  
Marty blinked at her, shocked. He waited for her expression to change. But her oblivious smile remained.  
She didn’t remember him.  
He cleared his throat uncomfortably, trying to ignore the hurt in his chest. “Uh, no thank you,” he mumbled, burying his nose in his menu.  
“I’ll be back to take your orders,” Hope said. Then she left and Marty watched her disappear into the kitchen in the back.  
Why didn’t she remember him?  
Suddenly, Gray tapped his arm. “Come with me,” he whispered. He stood up.  
“Where you going?” asked Eric.  
Gray smiled at him, placing a hand on Marty’s shoulder. “We’ll be right back,” he replied.  
Marty stood up as well and let Gray guide him toward the washrooms.

“What should I do?” Marty sighed, dropping his head in his hands.  
“You should go talk to her,” Gray said behind him.  
“But she doesn’t remember me.” Saying it out loud hurt more. “How could she have forgotten me?” He gripped his hair. Had he not been as special to Hope as she’d been to him? The thought hurt even more.  
“I doubt she truly forgot you,” said Gray, “She probably just needs something to jog her memory.”  
Marty thought about that for a moment. He lifted his head and looked at Gray in the mirror. “You really think so?”  
Gray shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”  
That was true. Marty turned around. “What about Cora?”  
“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her. She’ll understand.”  
“Okay. Thanks.” Marty bit his lip nervously, eyeing the exit.  
Gray gave him a reassuring smile and patted his back. “Go,” he told him.  
Marty’s heart stuttered, but he took a deep breath and went out the door.

He went into the kitchen and nearly collided with someone in the doorway.  
“Sorry!” Marty apologized quickly. Then he blinked. It was Hope.  
“No, no, I’m sorry,” she apologized back, smiling kindly.  
Marty swallowed. His mouth felt dry.  
“Do you need something?” Hope asked when he didn’t say anything.  
Marty hesitated, fear clutching him. He’d never been too good at this sort of thing. His nerves almost always got the best of him and then he’d go to Gray, to mope about all the things he’d wished he’d had the courage to do. He’d been like that ever since he was thirteen.  
Not this time though. Not this time. This was Hope. This was the love of his life. He was not handing the power over to his anxiety so easily.  
So he took a deep breath. “Can I talk to you? In private?” he asked, impressed that he managed to keep his voice steady.  
Hope looked at him curiously. Then she nodded and gave him a smile. “Come with me.”  
Marty followed her through the backdoor and outside, near a street behind the cafe. Sprinkles of snow fell from the sky, calm in the windless night.  
Marty pocketed his sweaty hands and cleared his throat. “I know this is weird,” he said, feeling a flush crawl up his neck, “but... um... w-we used to know each other   
and—”  
Hope raised her forefinger, quieting him. “Before you go on, you should know that I was in an accident and got a really bad concussion. It damaged my memory severely,” she explained, “So it’s nothing personal against you that I don’t remember you.”  
The ache that had been in Marty’s heart faded. “So that’s why,” he said with a relieved sigh.  
He could’ve slapped himself.  
“I-I mean!” he stammered, “A-are you okay?” He reached out to touch her arm, then thought better of it and retracted his hand with a blush.  
“Yes, I’m fine now,” Hope assured him with an amused grin. “So tell me how we know each other.”  
“Uh, well,” Marty began, fidgeting nervously, “We met in New York. I’d bring you stuff and we’d do things together.”  
He watched Hope’s face. She gazed back intently. She needed to hear more.  
“I took you home when you got beat up and you lived with me for awhile.”  
Hope’s face still showed on signs of recollection.  
“You got to know my family pretty well. My mom. My brother. My little sister. And my cat. Me and you became best friends and—”   
“Then we fell in love,” Hope finished, her eyes suddenly big and filled with emotion.  
She remembered everything.  
Marty’s heart swelled, warmth blossoming inside his chest. He pulled Hope into a bear hug, which she returned with just as much relief and strength.  
“Don’t ever leave me again.” Marty squeezed his arms around her.  
“You know I can’t promise you that.”  
“Then just let me hold you.”  
Hope squeezed him back. “Gladly.”

The next morning, Hope awoke to sound of birds chirping and Ray’s hungry whines. She rolled over, propping a leg up, as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She sat up, combing her fingers through her messy hair.  
“What a night,” she sighed happily, her gaze landing on what was laying next to her.  
Marty’s nose was buried in the pillow, his blond curls sticking out everywhere, and a muscular shoulder peeking out from under the blankets. Hope smiled at how peaceful he looked when he slept and pressed a kiss to one of the freckles on his cheek.  
Ray whined louder, pawing at her foot.  
“I’m coming,” she groaned, climbing out of bed and smoothing the bunches out of Marty’s shirt. She had to roll up his too-long sleeves.  
She grabbed the cat foot from the cabinet and poured some into Ray’s bowl. Ray meowed happily and immediately dug in.  
“It’s a good thing I make you exercise,” Hope said, putting the bag away again, “Otherwise you’d be fat.” She put her hand up to shield her eyes from the sunlight shining through the curtains. At that moment, she remembered something else.  
She crawled back into bed and spread open the curtains, letting the bright sun into her trailer.  
Marty moved around, the light painting the inside of his eyelids red and his nose scrunched up.  
“Wake up, Marty,” Hope said, giving his shoulder a gentle shake. “You have to see something.”  
“Whaaat?” Marty asked groggily, stretching his arms above his head, his muscles revealed to (a delighted) Hope.  
“Remember when you showed me the frozen river and the buildings?” she asked.  
“Yeah.” Marty sat up and crawled over to Hope’s side, sliding his arm around her waist.  
She leaned into his embrace, entwining their fingers together. “Look at this.”  
Marty squinted against the sunlight. Between two trailers, the sun was rising, making the ice on the ground shimmer.

The End


End file.
